Physical
by A Somewhat Amazing Teen
Summary: Brynjolf spots a young woman perfect for his outfit and asks for her to lend a pair of much needed hands. The young thief in search of only riches and good company decides to help out and is invited to the Ragged Flaggon. After working alone for so many years, how well will she work with others? Is this too big of an operation to handle? Maybe she just needs a little physical help.
1. Chapter 1

Beautiful, stealthy and perfect for the his outfit. That's what Brynjolf thought as he saw the theiving young Imperial most every day. If he wasn't someone trained in the art of stealth, he'd have never known she existed.

Upon asking around his sources, not a single person knew who the girl was, and not a single name in all of Skyrim or Cyrodiil matched her description. Of course she had he dark hair, olive skin and the golden-brown eyes like a lot of the Imperials, but the scars, the way she moved, her features, they were different.

It was clear: she worked in the shadows. And she knew what she was doing.

But the problem with that was, she could take down this whole city with her skills. So, there were two options, get her caught, or get her in on his operation.

He preferred the latter. And he knew exactly how to do it.

_

On a particularly rare, sunny afternoon, the shadows were dark. And the young Imperial was out to make her days worth.

The redheaded man arranged his coin purse out on his belt and left his elixirs to "look around." This was her bait. He walked close to buildings, keeping his ears out and his vision sharp. He didn't need to, though. This man grew up a thief. He knew every step and every breath you had to take to pickpocket someone.

She took the bait. There was muffled movement, and you wouldn't have been able to hear it if you hadn't been trained in this very art. There was a slight feeling of weight being taken off of him, as if you were exhaling a held breath slowly. Again, you wouldn't have been able to tell.

That was his mark.

He whipped around and grabbed her wrist, then pulled her dagger away from her hip not a second afterward. She had barely time to process what had happened before she dropped the purse.

Her eyes were wide with surprise and fear. His grip loosened and a smile reached his features. He handed her her dagger, hilt first. "Here ya' are, lass."

She still hadn't moved, hadn't breathed. Slowly she exhaled and even slower she reached for her dagger. She never used the thing. It was a "just in case" sort of thing. She liked to keep it clean.

"The name's Brynjolf," he smiled at her. "And I could use an pair of extra hands..."

_

He only saw her once while she did the job. He honestly doubted she would have even needed the distraction to get the job done. She was so silent, so quick, it was as if she was inhuman. Even if she was, he still wanted her in the guild. They weren't a discriminatory bunch.

"Jobs done," a smooth, quiet female voice sounded behind him. It nearly made him jump. He hadn't heard her approach him.

He turned on his heel toward the sound of the voice and was met with the Imperial's hooded face.

"So it is," he mused. "Here's your cut."

He tossed her a coin purse and she sized it up. She seemed happy with the amount from the way that amused smirk crept it's way into her features. Only seconds after she caught it she was turning toward the shadows.

"Wait," the Nord man said, stepping toward her as she turned around. "It looks like I've chosen the right person for this job..." he said. "But there's plenty more where that came from. Meet me in the Ragged Flaggon tonight. It's a tavern inside the Ratway."

Then they separated. Quickly, silently.

_

"Then what do you call this?" Brynjolf asked as she approached them.

"I didn't know if I'd be seeing you again," he said with a chuckle. He was definitely happy he had. She was a sight for sore eyes.

"She's a beauty," Delvin murmured as he passed behind the Nord man, quiet enough so no one else would hear but the redhead.

"Here, let's go on in and meet the one in charge, Mercer Frey."

Mercer Frey didn't seem as excited as Brynjolf had hoped but Mercer was just that way.

"You can't seriously be giving her that job! Little Vex couldn't even get it done. You expect new blood to?" Brynjolf was in shock.

"See it as a chance to prove herself."

"She already has," the redhead had tried to say, but Mercer had waved them off.

He gave her everything she needed to know, but it was way past dark and he wouldn't let her go without food and rest first.

"Stay," he said, getting a little close to her. "At least for some mead."

She stepped back, her feet light. She nodded. Words were hard to come by with her, the Nord had quickly figured out.

They went back into the Flaggon and sat next to Delvin. Vekel got her a drink, and they chatted a little.

"So, you're the new recruit, eh?" Delvin asked. She nodded. "What's yer name?" he pondered. Brynjolf looked up at her. He had never even bothered with her name. How rude of him. Of course he had wondered, but had never thought to ask once.

"I prefer to stay in the shadows," is what she replied with in her quiet, soft voice.

"Well what should we call you?" the bald man pressed.

"How about you call me whatever you think fits if I'm still alive tomorrow?" she asked in which Delvin laughed. Brynjolf smirked a little. There was a little flame in her just waiting for someone to splash with oil. He knew it.

It was a gut feeling that made him want to be the person who caused that wildfire.


	2. Chapter 2

She had been gone all morning, afternoon and now it was pushing dusk. Delvin patted the second in command on the back. "She'll be fine. If she's all you said she'd be, she'll get back without so much as a scratch."

The redhead busied himself all day, and when it was well past dusk and she wasn't back, he went to the Flaggon to drink himself out of his stupor.

After his second tankard of preferred drink, the door to the messy tavern opened with a creak and a limping little Imperial made her way in.

She slumped into the chair in front of the second in command with a grin, then winced. When Delvin caught whiff of her, he asked Vekel for a hot cloth, bandages and healing potions.

"Take off the armor," commanded Brynjolf, kneeling at her side with the cloth Vekel had brought. She gave him a look that said "no" but it wasn't very firm. He just rolled his eyes and said, "You're my sister in crime, not hired fun," he said and started to unbuckle the armor from the side while she gingerly pulled it off. He didn't realize it then, but he later regretted calling her his sister in crime. For one wouldn't do the things he did with her if she were a sister.

Her olive toned cheeks got a little dark, but her features weren't so much embarrassed as pained when he started to clean her stomach of blood.

Upon further inspection, she was stabbed in the stomach pretty deep and slashed on both arms multiple times.

"What happened to your leg, lass?" he inquired as she tightened her breast wrap and put her armor back on.

She flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't see the bear trap on the way into the Flaggon," she said. Delvin laughed and smacked her lightly on the back of the head, but she only smiled sheepishly. Brynjolf just gave a smile and a shrug and wrapped it up.

"So what'd ya find, lass?" the redhead pressed as he sat in front of her. Vex sauntered over when business started to be discussed.

She pulled a note out of her armor's pocket as she buckled it back on. "A bill of sale," she said quietly and handed it to him.

He read it over, they watched in silence as his features became confused, annoyed and angry. "Arginoth sold Goldenglow?!" he exclaimed. "That idiot! He must not know the extent of Maven's fury when she's cut out of a deal, but oh! He'll soon be finding out." He paused and inspected the parchment. "Do you recognize this mark?" he asked Delvin, Vex and the Imperial. They shook their heads in unison.

"I'll check my sources and speak to Mercer. Oh, and lass," he turned to the dark haired woman. "Maven's asked for you. I'd see her immediately."

She nodded slowly but looked worried. "Don't worry. If she wanted you dead then she would have contacted the Dark Brotherhood already."

He was rewarded with a smile from her.

She liked Maven. That was a rare thing to be said, she found out. But upon meeting her, she knew she liked her for the following reasons:

1. Her name carries weight in Skyrim  
2. She was a very go-to person. She got things done.  
3. She had the coin.

"All I care about is cause and effect. Did the job get done and was it done correctly. There is no grey area."

_

Her next quest brought her to Whiterun.

It was a warm, bustling city with friendly people and traders all around.

With all the people around it was easy to blend in.

She spoke to the contact and received her job.

There turned out to be quite a bit more fighting than she had hoped, but all was worth it when she had pleased Maven and reeled in quite a bit of coin for the guild.


End file.
